


Connecting

by Chaawa



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Falling In Love, Happy Ending, M/M, Possibly Slow Burn, Red String of Fate, Slight AUish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23237368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaawa/pseuds/Chaawa
Summary: Where Soufflé is granted the ability to see red threads of fate.
Relationships: Opera Cake/Soufflé (Food Fantasy), Whiskey/Lilia (Food Fantasy)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Connecting

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to write a multi-chapter fanfiction without dropping QwQ Wish me luck...
> 
> I love the red string myth (and kinda believe in it too?). Through this fanfiction, I hope to convey the beauty of this belief and my views on the characters, especially on Soufflé

Everyone is tied with an end of a red thread.

Though where is it tied may varies, what it does is not to be affect.

Though it may stretch or tangle, the seemingly fragile cord is impossible to break.

It is said to be invisible, but not to a certain Food Soul. 

Soufflé was out running an errand for the Duchess. His eyes unconsciously followed tangled threads that everyone was passing through, but none paid any mind to. By the time, such sight should have had become a norm for him. Still, it had never fail to left him astounded with the way it is strangely enticing.

Fate, pronounced with light and short breath, is such a beautiful word with a beautiful meaning. 

The Food Soul lifted his honeycombed-colored eyes as he gazed deep into the faraway horizon. It would be evening soon, judging how the sky is gradually dyeing itself a shade of orange. The clock to his left, though, told him otherwise.

Worry not, there is still plenty of time.

Nevertheless, Soufflé was not planning to risk. He turned his back, ready to return to the Pavillion. Eyes darting to a TV screen playing behind the glass window, the man showed a soft smile as he failed to stop himself from whispering:

"Ah, how I hope to one day see you in person."

The hour hand observed the busy street, silently striking 2. 

The bell rang twice, loud and clear.

A blessing for a certain someone's future.


End file.
